In Sixes
by Snowballimus
Summary: Everyone has a story to be told. And everyone has a secret. Drabbles and much more in the lives of a new character each chapter.
1. Sora

Disclaimer: It's called _fanfiction_ for a reason

* * *

Sora-96

He's more restless than he's ever been in his entire life. After so long of near constant adrenaline, the peace of island life is testing his nerves. He sees shadows all the time and jumps at every noise in the night. Granted, he has Kairi, Riku, and his home, but… he still can't help but expect a heartless or nobody to appear at any second. He doesn't like being on edge all the time and he wonders if since he's been fighting for so long if it's the only thing he knows how to do anymore.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading! =]


	2. Riku

Disclaimer: It's called _fanfiction_ for a reason.

* * *

Riku-78

He has a secret that he keeps from Sora and Kairi. At night, when everyone sleeps, he likes to go out on his roof and practice his magic. He likes to see the weaving tendrils of blue and black around his hands and it's something that only he can do. He feels a little guilty and a little dirty and a little dark, but he thinks of the lessons he's learned from Mickey and he feels humble again.

* * *

Thanks for reading! =]


	3. Kairi

Disclaimer: It's called _fanfiction_ for a reason.

* * *

Kairi-81

When she looks in a mirror she sometimes thinks it's not her staring back. The hair seems lighter and flipped ever so slightly to the right. Her smile looks strained like she isn't quite sure how to make one. Her skin looks different, paler and quite unlike her normal tone. It might have upset her were it not for the eyes. Her eyes that stayed exactly the same, but exuded calmness as if to say, 'It's alright. I'll be with you'.

* * *

Thanks for reading! =]


	4. Axel

Axel—201

He was on a mission in Twilight Town when he first spotted Roxas. His objective was to find the new Nobody that the dusks had sensed, so of all the people he was expecting, Roxas was not one of them. He had first been surprised (or as surprised as one could be), he remembered this boy from his own childhood and so he approached him and only when the teen was unresponsive-or was it catatonic?-did he take a closer look. The shirt was not black to the left, the clothes were missing their shining armor, and also (perhaps more importantly) were the waves of power and light coming off of him.

He realized three things then. One, this was not the same boy who once defeated him with a giant wooden key (though the image was uncanny). Two, this was clearly the Nobody he had been sent to find. Three, the rumors were true, and this was the Nobody of the keyblade master. He later wondered, for a very brief second, when he brought the boy before the Organization, that if he had a heart, would Xemnas' almost triumphant smirk have alarmed him like he suspected it should have?


	5. Namine

Naminé-103

She draws at night when Kairi sleeps. Childish drawings of only ideas and passing images from her dreams. She used to draw Sora's memories and now she draws Kairi's. Her hidden memories of a castle and many, many gardens. Of a woman with strange hair and children and teenagers that Sora only knows as adults. She draws a group of people that look familiar and she knows that she knows them but she knows that they're gone so she doesn't worry. But she draws when Kairi sleeps to have a little bit of control and feel, just for a moment, like an individual.


	6. Zexion

Zexion—241

He remembers the smell best, musty from dust and time. He opens the door hesitantly, quietly, and cautiously and it's exactly the same. He inhales and wonders what he would feel if he had a heart. The scent of the old library is bringing back things long, long forgotten. A small murmur and a tiny magic light follows him inside. He walks slowly by each shelf; ten memories for each row and thinks that he can finally reach the higher books.

He walks silently deeper inside and ghostly memories play in his head. He can hear hidden laughter and giggles that were once echoed around the whole town but are now no more than imprints in time. He can almost see the servants progressing through their chores and if he strains past the mundane ghosts he can feel the warmth of a hand in his. He can hear someone's patient sigh as old formulas dance before him. He jerks his shoulder and spins around, the light dashing around with him and he swears he just felt a hand pat his back (though he will not admit the seeming fatherly gesture). When he feels a straightening of his coat as though someone was trying to dress him that he decides it's time to leave. He opens a portal, now thinking this a bad idea, and nearly flees inside when the taste (just barely a hint) of ice cream tingles on his tongue.


	7. Roxas

Thank you Bri333865 for your review! I hope you like these three as well.

* * *

Roxas-34

He sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps inside Sora and it feels like home and warmth and light, but it's also alien. Were he awake, he would wonder why.


	8. Lexaeus

Lexaeus—223

The earth spoke to him. It said things he did not believe others could hear. On each new world it would greet him. Sometimes on worlds such as the last (moose riding mammoths! How peculiar) it very nearly rejoiced at his every breath. The earth sang at his steps and when he took the time to speak back it absolutely hummed with pleasure.

But then there were the other worlds. The ones overrun with technology and greed. Where metal cities grew from the ground to the dirty sky. In these places the earth always sang differently and every time he stepped through the portal he winced at the earth's screams. These places were always full of pain and anger. He did not like going to these worlds. The earth would beg him to help, fix, and punish and when he would say that could do nothing the earth would weep and call him traitor, the disgraced son. He thought it useless to inform the earth that he did not crawl from the ground thank-you-very-much, and was therefore not a tree or a massive boulder and more importantly, not it's son.

So he let the earth wail at him and suffered the splitting headaches and ringing ears and thought of the World That Never Was where the earth was silent and empty like himself.


	9. Unknown

?—244

He loves the feel of dirt. He likes how even on the hottest day of the year, if he digs deep enough, the earth is cool and moist. It's dark and heavenly and smells indescribable. He kicks off his shoes and throws his socks somewhere to the left of the gardens. Hesitantly, he slides his toes through the earth. He sighs very quietly and buries his feet a bit more. For a little second he feels like a plant himself, trying to anchor his roots in the ground.

He sits, uncaring of the dirt, a content smile on his face among the begonias and roses. Time passes and he notices how quiet it is in the gardens. The sounds of the castle are gone and all he can hear is nature. Birds twitter in the trees and a bee looking for pollen flies near. A light breeze blows through the leaves and stirs the flowers, increasing their pleasant smell. He wriggles his toes again and feels sleepy and more peaceful than he can remember. But he knows he has his duty to the palace gardens, and so he takes a small look around, committing the scene to memory, and removes his feet from the ground. His legs feel heavy and he likes to think that earth wishes for his company longer. He stands slowly and kicks the dirt to smooth over his mess and wanders off to find his socks, still heavy with peace.


	10. Vexen

Thanks again to Bri333865 for taking time to review. The unknown is supposed to be Marluxia when he was whole. I left the 'castle' up to the reader's imagination (though I have my own headcanon for that) and I especially like Lexaeus' too. Hope you enjoy these as well. =]

* * *

Vexen—470

He never wanted friends. Never desired company or companions. So therefore it was odd when he found himself allowing Naminé to find small sanctuary within his labs. He supposed he couldn't blame her. The looks Marluxia gave her were enough to send anyone going very fast in the opposite direction. He remembered coming back from a mission and finding the small girl in a corner, shaking uncontrollably and clutching her sketchbook so hard her knuckles were white. He speculated that at a different point in time he might have asked what was wrong and spared some sort of comforting words, but in this life he was a Nobody so he simply threw her a blanket from the closet and started setting up equipment and chemicals.

The next time he saw her, she quietly opened the door to his lab, this time her hair stood slightly on end, and gave him a hopeful look. At the time he said he let her stay because the emotion she showed perplexed him and was an excellent premise to start an experiment. Much later, he though it might have been because she reminded him so much of Ienzo and through the remnant of some lost emotion he let her stay. Towards the end, he began to realize that he just liked her company.

The time she spent with him was more often that not composed of being treated like a lab rat. She was an enigma that he wanted to crack. Her very existence questioned everything he had postulated and proved about Nobodies. It also said a great deal about his presence that even through the experiments she chose him over others. When asked why, she had said that of those who weren't the Neophytes, he at least talked to her, which was quite strange since when he wasn't experimenting on her, the only sounds in the lab were of him working and of her crayons scratching on paper.

In the few hours before the keyblade master was lured to the Castle, she sat in the corner drawing some childish image or another when Marluxia knocked ever so perfectly on the laboratory door. He had half a mind not to let the pompous fool in, before deciding the quicker he was dealt with the quicker he could go back to perfecting his replica.

She stiffened in what he imagined was fright when Marluxia informed her "It is time, Naminé" and cast him a pleading look, but he had no heart and therefore no push to save her from him. As she walked slowly to leave she stared at him, her expression indescribable, and he felt a tugging somewhere he couldn't name. But it was gone as quick as it came, fleeting out of his mind as he turned his focus back to his replica.


	11. Larxene

Larxene—98

She likes to see them dance (at least she thinks she likes it). One step-two and jump and turn and three step-four and duck and five step repeat. Not quite eight beats, but lightning is finicky and she can call it and direct it, but if a piece wants to branch off it will. They dance strangely; like eels out of water. She can hear their pleas within her in the manner of all lesser Nobodies, but she doesn't care-can't-so she calls more lightning and they dance faster and the beats echo in her hollow chest.


	12. King Mickey

King Mickey-78

He sighs for the umpteenth time, completely content. The steam from the tub fogs the mirrors in his luxurious bathroom. He can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed. A gentle knock on the door and his beautiful Queen walks in. He smiles happily as she sits against the tub. He offers her a wet hand and she takes it, spreading kisses upon him and he's so full of love for her, his kingdom, and his bathtub.


	13. Xigbar

Memories, memories, memories

Knocking at my door.

They scream and kick,

and fight and scratch,

and push and shove,

to make a crack

against the walls

within my brain.

I try to hide the

pain inside with

cosmic laughs

and bitter sighs.

Though the cosmic

laugh is all on

me for the battle

of these memories

revolves around the

fact that we are

truly

** empty**.

And I wonder-

Do I regret, regret, regret

all my human actions

that have led to this?

This purgatory?

I'm left in stasis

still waiting on a

promise and agreement.

Could I regret, regret, regret

all my human actions

if I had just

said

** NO****?**

Now I'm left with

emotional echoes

that take the form

of these angry memories

who attack so relentlessly

for sacrificing them

so easily.

Here I remain-

emptily cursing ambition.

And I can try

to curse all I want

but at the end of

the day I have

no one to blame

but myself.

And all these

Memories. MEMORIES. MEMORIES.

that rattle about my brain

are ghosts in my

closet like the ghostly

wind that blows through

the cob-webbed cavity

in

my

chest.


	14. Demyx

**Demyx-325**

He dreams of thunder. It's dark and dangerous and the sky is alight with blazing streaks of lightning.

He dreams of wind. Great gales that blow with a ferocious intent to destroy and shriek in anger. It whips his hair and makes the rain feel like a thousand needles; pricking at his face and arms, begging to draw blood but unable.

He dreams of the sea. The waves roll and crash and thunder nearly as loudly as the sky above. They pound mercilessly against the ship. They pull and build and fall and destroy. The sea is deep with eyes.

He dreams of the ship. It sways dangerously to and fro. The mast is broken and great sheets billow crookedly above him. The crew is gone and the ship is abandoned. He is all that is left.

He dreams of ghosts and ghostly screams. Of horror and shock and the final peace found in the acceptance of fate. Of refusals and defiance. And of a thousand more emotions that are acknowledged and only felt like strange a mist passing through his chest.

He dreams of the horizon and the monstrous darkness that rises from it, coming ever so closer. He can see more of the churning, black, furious sea through the hole in the darkness' chest and his gaze strays to the many, many eyes that see him too. In the end it is all he sees.

When he wakes it is not with a start nor is it a slow rise to consciousness; it is as if he was never asleep at all. As he gazes around the stark white room, the dream fades so rapidly he forgets he ever dreamed to begin with. Having nothing to do for some time he take out his sitar and plays a melody from another life and another dream.


End file.
